When the Bough Breaks
by When the Wind Stands Fair
Summary: On the 18th June 2005, Becker's ten year old sister stepped through an anomaly, becoming trapped in a distant past. Six years later, neither have forgotten the other. But will they ever see each other again?
1. Here and There

Here and There

_On the 18__th__ June, 2005, Becker's ten year old sister stepped through an anomaly which then closed, trapping her in a distant past. Six years later, neither have forgotten the other, but will they ever see each other again?_

**CLIPPER  
><strong>26th November, sometime in the mid-Cretaceous_  
>18<em>_th__ June, 2005_

_Crack!_

The girl froze, wide eyes flashing from side to side, searching for the tell-tale glow of reptilian eyes in the dark.

Finding none, she returned her gaze to the fire, glaring at the branch that had popped in the heat.

It was somewhat hypnotic; the flickering glow, the slow dance of the flames through the blackened kindling. She found herself drawn deeper into the heart of the fire, finally relaxing after a day of constant fear and danger.

Her eyes drifted to the freshly cauterized wound on her lower leg. She sighed, resisting the urge to rub the throbbing gash. She had been surprised earlier that day. The Raptors had come out of nowhere; she'd had mere seconds to grab her most important possessions and scramble up the nearest tree. Luckily, most of her things were in her bag; her blanket, dried food and strike-fire. Her knives were tied to her belt, as always. All she had to grab was the battered wind-up radio her brother had given her for her eighth birthday. It was old, yes, but had never been more useful.

Her brother. She sighed again. She remembered the day she'd last seen him as clearly as anything.

_He was just back from that military academy. She had hauled their mother out of bed to drive to the station at the crack of dawn. They had stood, shivering slightly, on the platform as other families joined them, waiting anxiously for the train to roll in._

_When it finally did she scanned the rushing windows, desperately searching for one familiar face. It wasn't until everyone was climbing off that she spotted him. _

_His once-messy hair was neat and controlled and he had adopted the chin-up, shoulders-back posture that was all she remembered of their father. He looked different but she didn't care._

'_HIL!'_

_The shrill scream had echoed through the rapidly filling platform and many people turned towards the sound. Many jumped out of the way of the ten year old girl haring towards a young man who had abruptly dropped his bags and opened his arms to receive her._

_His face had lit up as she hurtled into him, not even bothering to slow down as she threw her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet and span her in a circle, laughing into her hair as she buried her face in his neck._

'_Hey Clip. You miss me?'_

_Not trusting herself to speak through the sudden flood of tears, Clipper could only nod, hugging him harder._

_His arms tightened around her before, realising she wouldn't be letting go anytime soon, gently shifting her round to his back and crouching to retrieve his fallen bags._

_The two of them wove through the station with Clipper clinging like a limpet to Hilary's back, chin resting on his shoulder while she regaled him with story after story about how the dog escaped the day before, how she'd been taking food to a vixen with a litter of cubs in an alley three miles away and how Mum got drunk _again_ the other night._

_She missed the concerned frown forming on her brother's face._

Clipper winced, her foot twinging again. She shifted it carefully as she checked the old watch on her wrist. She knew the time and date didn't count for much here but it was just a couple of small things that kept her sane. Date: 25th November (roughly). Time: 11:47pm (more or less).

Reaching out, Clipper gingerly tapped the red-tinged blade she had left to cool away from the fire.

The lead Raptor had seized her foot in his powerful jaws, nearly yanking her to the ground. A solid heel-to-the-eye had been enough to break his grip but the damage had been done. Blood was pouring from her ankle and the scent had driven the reptiles insane; trying to leap up the tree to get her. Clipper had limped higher, crudely wrapping the injury with a frayed piece of fabric, before fleeing through the branches until pain and exhaustion had forced her into this cave where she built a fire, heated one of her knives and, gritting her teeth through a mouthful of material torn from her bag, cauterized the wound.

The knife was almost back to normal temperature, although she had no idea how she was going to remove the blood now burnt onto her favourite blade.

The weapon was roughly six inches long. It was razor sharp, made from flint shards, bound and coated in clay then melted together in the fire before being glued to the hilt with pine resin. It had been the first weapon she'd made and, despite her utter inexperience in making knives, was the most beautiful of her now considerable collection. Over the last five-and-a-half years she had made four knives; a skinning knife, serrated knife, regular knife and a machete. Two axes also joined the armoury; one for chopping and one for throwing.

All were a soft blue at the edges, darkening to almost black on the spine. The hilts were made from sturdy redwood or bone and they hung from her belt in sheaths of genuine dinosaur leather.

The knives were one thing Clipper doubted she could have survived this long without; she took great care of them. Other things, however, weren't so well off.

Her combat boots had long ago been recycled as she grew from a size two to whatever she was now. She went barefoot; the soles of her feet becoming tough and leathery. Her clothes had been a greater problem; she had grown around a foot since she had arrived and filled out in other areas. The day came when, come hell or high water, she could not get the damn things on. Despite the fact that she was the only human on the planet and all the other creatures around her really didn't care what she wore, dignity would not let her go without. Clipper was now, therefore, clad in a crude t-shirt and shorts roughly cut from a dead Raptor's hide, clumsily stitched together using a sharp bone needle and threads of her recycled laces.

She smirked slightly as she thought about how she must look. Sat in a cave by a fire, covered in random scars, hair untamed but chopped short and eyes wild, reflecting the flames. She must look, as Hil would say, like she'd escaped from the circus.

There had been an argument that night. Hil had uncovered their Mum's 'secret' vodka horde and gone through the roof. Clipper had hidden in her room and listened to the chaos unfolding downstairs.

_She sat behind her door, tears streaming down her face, as her brother raged. He was furious; yelling about the state of the house, the sheer amount of alcohol and her. Mostly her._

'_She's old enough to be a bit more independent!' Mum argued weakly._

'_Independent? She's skin and bone! She's been wandering the city while you sit here getting pissed! She's ten, she's not a bloody adult!'_

'_You haven't been here for a year, what the hell do you know?'_

'You_ haven't been here since Dad died; you never had the slightest bit of interest in Clipper, I raised her! What the hell possessed me to trust her to you while I went to Sandhurst?'_

'_Well if you think you can do a better job then take her with you.' Clipper's breath caught in her throat. Would he? Could he take her with him?_

'_Trust me, I would. But I can't. I'm being deployed to Iraq in three weeks. Do you care? Do you give a damn that your only son is willingly flying into a warzone? Do you care that your only daughter slowly turning feral? I don't think you do. All you can see is your own selfish grief. Yes, Dad died, but now you're killing us too.'_

_It was too much. A choked sob escaped Clipper's throat as she pulled her backpack over her shoulders. It contained her radio, silver blanket and food for the foxes. Tightening the straps; she hared down the stairs and through the door, interrupting the argument._

_Clipper sprinted through the city, towards the fox den. Tears flew from the corners of her eyes. She had never felt so lost; Hil was leaving again and might not return. Her Mum didn't want her._

_Footsteps pounded behind her; she recognised Hil's fluid, even gait, heard him calling her, begging her to stop, to slow down. She sped up, weaving through the labyrinthine alleys that made up central London._

_She shot round a corner and skidded to a halt._

_Hovering in front of her was a golden orb, shattered glass floating around a central, glowing point. The gentle pulsing caught her imagination, hypnotising her. Almost without noticing, she moved closer, and closer again._

_There was a gentle noise coming from it; distant hums and roars._

_Shouting behind her. She glanced back._

'_Clip? Clipper!'_

_Hil was coming. He would take her back, back to the house where she wasn't wanted. She had only had him, and he was leaving. He might not come home._

_Her gaze returned to the orb. The pulsing was more pronounced now. She stepped forward, then again. Very slowly, she walked through._

_It was impossible._

_She was stood in a forest. Huge trees reached for the sky and strange birds soared overhead. Really strange birds. Without feathers. They looked more like bats._

_No. No, they couldn't be._

_She span on one heel, eyes widening as she saw the orb. It was pulsing violently now and a dull horror gripped Clipper's stomach. Wherever she was now, Hilary was on the other side. She screamed._

'_HIL!'_

_Then it was gone, as silently as it had appeared, and Hil was nowhere in sight._

_She was trapped, alone and more scared than she had ever been in her life._

Clipper hummed softly to herself, missing her brother, missing him so badly it hurt.

Another bolt of pain shot through her foot and she flinched, accidently kicking the fire. She hissed at the new burn as her old watch beeped and lit up.

26th November, 03:00.

She was sixteen.

Happy Birthday, Clipper.

**BECKER  
><strong>26th November 2010  
><em>18<em>_th__ June 2005_

'_Happy Birthday, Clipper' _Becker thought as his watch beeped at him. He scrubbed rogue tears from his eyes under the pretext of wiping rainwater from his face.

She would have been sixteen today. They would have sat on the bed this morning, opening cards and sharing a box of Maltesers, like they always had done. They would have been laughing and teasing each other. She would have gone to school while he went to work and she'd have come back laden with presents from her friends. They would have gone out for a meal, eaten too much and collapsed, groaning, into their respective beds, far-too-full, at midnight.

Instead he was stood beside a barren train line at three in the morning, cold, achy, sodden and hungry; waiting for this damned anomaly to _just close already!_

He shifted to the other foot, then back again, readjusting his grip on the grey shotgun that was nothing like his old one; the one he'd given to Danny, Connor and Abby. Three other people he'd lost to the wrong time because he made the wrong decision or turned right instead of left or hadn't run fast enough.

_She was fast. She always had been, hence the nickname, but for crying out loud; she was _fast._ He couldn't catch her, no matter how hard he tried. She knew this place like the back of her hand and he didn't. Not anymore._

'_CLIPPER!' He yelled, desperate. She whipped round a corner ahead; he raced in pursuit, grabbing the lamppost for speed._

_Then he staggered to a halt, eyes widening._

_Two alleys branched off; which one was it? He bolted down the right hand one._

_Where was she? He couldn't hear her feet, thudding against the pavement. He swore. Doubling back, he ran instead down the left alley, still yelling her name._

'_Clip? Clipper!'_

_There, ahead of him, was a strange light. A glowing orb, surrounded by what looked like shattered glass. He didn't know what it was, but instinct and a terrible certainty told him his sister was on the other side._

_It was pulsing violently; he redoubled his speed, he was nearly there, so close..._

_The alley went dark._

_He barely felt the impact of running into the garage door, just the empty thudding in his chest, _she's gone, she's gone, she's gone.

_He curled up on the floor, shock reducing his body to stifled sobs and uncontrollable shaking._

_The police found him there, hours later, and he was taken to hospital where a gash through his left eyebrow was stitched. He hadn't noticed it._

_The police had searched the city high and low for Clipper and appeals for information of her whereabouts were televised on the News, but they didn't find her._

_Becker knew they wouldn't._

First Clipper, then Danny, Connor and Abby. Tears burned the back of his eyes again; he tried to rub away the evidence before it had a chance to show but he caught Matt giving him a concerned glance. He glared back.

Finally, _blessedly, _the locked anomaly vanished. Immediately, he threw the gun through the open window of his truck. He shouted instructions to his men before yanking open the door.

'I'm going home, Matt; I'll sort the paperwork later.' Ignoring Matt's raised eyebrows; he whipped the car around and sped towards the road.

He tried to make it look like he wasn't running away.

Becker's flat was very predictable in most ways. His walls were neutral cream, one painted a dark dove grey, his floors were laminate and his huge leather sofa was jet black and well worn. His kitchen was modern but small and his bed was far bigger than it had any need to be.

Less predictably, one wall in his lounge was covered in photographs. They were a timeline of his life. Towards the right of the collage were pictures of the old ARC team. There was him playing with Sid and Nancy, sneakily taken on Connor's phone. He, Connor, Abby, Danny and Sarah, covered in muck and blood after chasing Jack into the future. The whole team, laughing and joking; Abby was shoving a smirking Connor, Danny was doing bunny-ears to Sarah, unaware that Becker was doing the same to him.

The far left was Becker's pre-Clipper childhood. Himself as a three year old, sat on his Dad's shoulders. He played Joseph in the school nativity one year; there he was, stuck to the wall dressed in a red dressing gown and a tea-towel, big, cheesy grin aimed at the camera.

Then there was Clipper. Hundreds of photos of him and his sister. One of his favourites was of ten-year-old Becker holding newborn Clipper. His dark hair was messy and hung in his eyes; his grin was big and goofy. She had only just been born but her eyes were open and staring straight into the camera. Her fair hair was fine and downy, so pale it was almost invisible on the old photo. Their Dad's spidery handwriting adorned the back.

_Hilary and Bryn, 26__th__ November 1994_

The best part of his life was immortalised on this wall; the pair of them opening presents at Christmas then asleep together on the sofa after eating far too much. Dressed to the nines at each other's birthday parties, paper hats lopsided, and a manic look in their eyes from too much sugar.

Those were the days; they were happy, childish, ignorant of their turbulent future.

Becker's fingers traced Clipper's face. She was eight; stood on Brighton beach with a brown donkey. Her right hand was buried in the spiky mane, left resting on the long nose. Light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail beneath a navy sailing cap and she was lightly tanned from the unexpected sun.

Becker smiled; it was taken a few months before he went to Sandhurst. The two of them had booked into a hotel next to the beach for a long weekend. She had donkey rides while he held (and ate some of) her icecream. They had built a sand sculpture of a dragon in a cave, about a metre and a half tall and twice as long, hours spent labouring over their masterpiece until it was perfect in every detail. They sat on the sea wall, eating fish and chips, occasionally throwing them at nosy seagulls. The birds hadn't seemed to mind.

The sun was starting to rise over the Thames, light reflecting in the water; setting the river on fire, as Becker dropped, exhausted, into bed.

**CLIPPER  
><strong>10th August, sometime in the mid-Cretaceous

Wake.

Eat.

Drink.

Leave.

Fish.

Run.

Tree.

Rest.

Raptor!

Hide.

Bleed.

Fix.

Walk.

Walk.

Walk.

Lake.

Bathe.

Eat.

Drink.

Sleep.

Start again tomorrow.

**BECKER  
><strong>10th August, 2011

Becker cursed as his hand cramped, dropping his pen and shaking it vigorously. He rubbed the throbbing muscles, glaring pointlessly at the day's report, sat half-finished in front of him. His fingers were stained with stinking black ink from the cracked biro and a slashed bicep was refusing to stop weeping through the bandage. The past ten hours had been a riot of paperwork, two anomalies, a furious stegosaurus and, rather ridiculously, a confused medieval king with an unfortunate habit of not looking before he stabbed, which resulted in more than one injury and the aforementioned slashed bicep.

In a nutshell, the day had not gone well.

It was now nearing ten at night; he was hungry, tired and fed up of paperwork.

Shoving the report into the drawer, Becker stood up and headed for the Ops room to tell Jess to go home _again._

She was staring at a still from a CCTV tape. It was bad quality; pixelated almost beyond comprehension from this distance, but he thought he could see an anomaly on the left of the screen.

Becker frowned; it couldn't be doing Jess' tired eyes any good.

Silent as ever, he approached the ADD, still trying to make sense of that picture.

Suddenly, his heart clenched and he had to grab the chair to stay on his feet. His eyes were glued to the image on the right-hand screen.

It was Clipper.

It was Clipper, about to go through the anomaly.

It was the worst day of his life; his deepest secret.

And Jess had seen it.

Right on cue, Jess glanced back at him, jumping slightly. He couldn't take his eyes off his sister.

'Her name was Clipper.' His voice was hoarse; he could hear every lifetime he'd aged since that day.

'She was my sister. She's the reason I started here. The reason I carried on after everything that happened. She's the reason for pretty much everything I do.'

She always had been, ever since she was born.

Jess looked back at the screen with a thoughtful expression. She didn't say anything and he didn't expect her to; nobody ever knew what to say. It hadn't taken long for him to stop telling people; Clipper had become his secret.

Without another word he turned and left, caught up in his memories once again.

**CLIPPER  
><strong>_2__nd__ September, mid-Permian_

Clipper had spent a lot of time in trees over the last six years but, really, this was bordering on ridiculous.

There she was, minding her own business, when an orb-gateway-thing had opened mere metres away. She had immediately grabbed her bag and slipped through.

At first she had gone through them when they appeared because she thought they would take her home. They never had; now she only crossed from one world to the next out of habit, and a faint, nagging hope at the back of her mind. She had long ago given up being disappointed upon seeing yet another forest or desert.

She was sure these worlds had names, but she had her own. There was 'The One with the Raptors'; the world she had spent the most time, around three years in total. 'The One with the Giant Bugs' was particularly hated due to the incredible heat and strange air that made her too crazy to sleep. She had spent around three months there when she was fourteen. 'The One with the Bat-Birds' had been the first, and she had been returned several times. There were several types of Bat-Birds; tiny ones that lived on the giant dinosaurs and attacked if you had blood on you, right up to huge ones with red crests that only ate lizards but didn't like egg-thieves.

But far and away the worst were 'The Ones where everything is dead.' These were two worlds; one with rusty cars and ruined buildings, the other with desert and rocks and storms. Both were stalked by greyish creatures that moved like lightening and made strange clicking sounds, hunting you no matter how well you hid.

She had never seen humans, although she had very occasionally heard shouts from just out of sight. However, whenever she arrived, there was no-one there. Just a rusted car or a dead Raptor.

And now she was here. Stuck up a tree after three months in a place she had never been before.

She glanced down at the strange creature below her. Short and squat, with legs sticking out the sides, by far its most impressive feature was the huge sail on its back.

Clipper frowned; she knew she had seen a picture of it in a book, years ago, but she had no idea what it was called. She wasn't even sure if it was friend or foe but, given the size of the teeth, she was willing to bet the latter.

Her stomach gurgled and she huffed in frustration, leaning back against the trunk.

Pulling the last scrap of dried Raptor meat from her bag, Clipper was settling for another long night when her radio went off. She glanced up.

A golden glow was filtering through the trees.

**BECKER  
><strong>3rd September, 2011

'Two hours, Jess! I have had _two hours sleep!'_ Becker groaned into his phone as he rolled out of bed, landing on his feet with a muffled thump.

Eyes barely open, he began rooting through the bomb site that was his bedroom, looking for his clothes.

'_Sorry. I wouldn't have called you out but the anomaly is refusing to lock. Connor, Abby and Matt are already down there; they said to get you up as a last resort. I'm keeping an eye on them; there's a CCTV camera. Connor said they're doing it the old-fashioned way and waiting for it to close on its own. Apparently they haven't done that since the British museum.'_

'My first day. Pristichampus ran riot through London and Connor got himself a bad luck curse. Sarah didn't tell him she made it up for weeks.' He finally dug his boot out from under the bed and yanked it on. 'Okay, tell the others I'm on my way.'

It was five o'clock; not the worst time he'd been called out for an anomaly but he _had_ spent the majority of the night chasing an Allosaurus through Knightsbridge. The sun was barely up, just a weak sliver of light casting long shadows through the streets.

The anomaly was in a square, thankfully deserted, near Hyde Park. Two ARC cars were parked off to the side. The team was sat on the bed, talking quietly with EMDs at the ready.

'I was going to sleep in, you know.' Becker announced mock-cheerfully as he slammed the door shut. 'Lester told me I didn't have to come in 'till twelve but never mind; I'll sleep another time.'

Matt wordlessly handed him a flask. Becker took it with a nod. Coffee; hot, black and, by the smell of it, extremely strong. He took a few gulps and felt himself waking up.

'Jess said it wasn't locking. Any known reason?'

Connor shook his head. 'No idea. It's not the locking devices; we tried three different ones. I was wondering if Philip's anomaly could have changed them slightly but they're still on the same frequency. Could just be a one-off; I'll look at the data later. Until then, we sit it out.'

Becker sighed, hoisting himself up next to Abby. 'Where does it lead, at least?'

'Around two hundred and seventy million years ago; slap bang in the mid-Permian. Biggest threat to come through would be a Dimetrodon.'

He was about to reply when Jess' voice came through the comms.

'_Something's coming through!'_

The four on them leapt off the car, powering up their guns just as a dark shape burst through the anomaly. But it wasn't a Dimetrodon.

It was a girl.

Connor dropped his EMD in surprise; Becker froze, unable to take his eyes off the girl, now staring around at her surroundings. Brown hair hung almost to her shoulders, dropping in front of blue-grey eyes. She was lithe and wild-looking, her stance that of one which doesn't know if it is hunter or prey.

'_Becker...?' _Jess whispered in his ear, _'Is that...?'_

The girl's gaze met his.

'Clipper.' Her name slipped past his lips and he discerned a vague clatter as his EMD hit the ground next to Connor's.

He took a few shaky steps, then he was running, faster than ever before and she was running, and he caught himself thinking _"This is it. Any second now I'm going to wake up." _

Clipper threw herself into his arms, not bothering to slow down, and suddenly she was hugging him as fiercely as he hugged her. He swung her in a circle, like he had so many years ago, laughing as the tears streamed down his face.

Confused murmurings and questions from the team, along with a loud, joyful whoop from Jess, rang through his comms. He ignored them, holding his sister closer.

Becker buried his face in Clipper's shoulder, her well-loved voice in his ear, unheard for six years.

'Hey, Hil. You miss me?'

FIN

_The ending of this story was hung until yesterday morning, when I picked up my GCSE results. Had it not gone well, Clipper would probably still be stuck in the Permian and I don't even want to consider what could have happened to Becker. Anyway, it's all good! I got the grades I needed, had a banana split for lunch and Clipper got home more-or-less unscathed. Yay!_

_A WORD ABOUT CLIPPER_

_Clipper was ten when she went through the anomaly. As her birthday is late November, that means she was about to finish Year 5 in Primary School. _

_Clipper doesn't know the names of different eras, or most of the dinosaurs that live in them. Obviously, she knows Raptors, and would have recognised T-Rex and all the others we're told about as kids. Anyway, this is what she means when she makes up her own names for things._

_The One with the Bat-Birds – Jurassic  
>The One with the Raptors – Cretaceous<br>The One with the Giant Bugs - Carboniferous  
>The Ones where Everything is Dead -<br>Rusty Cars and Ruined Buildings – Where the team rescued Jack from in S03E08  
>Rocks, Deserts and Storms – Matt's time<em>

_I'll be doing some more Clipper one-shots, please review and tell me what you think :)_


	2. Kindred

For Becca _(not Becker, which is a common mistake that got us some weird looks from our friends, and caused much amusement for all in on the joke :D)_, for hounding me every day for months to get this finished. Thank you for reading over my shoulder, stealing my notebook and being an all-round taskmaster when it came to my writing. No, really; this story would probably still be lounging in its folder if you hadn't. Also, sorry for writing the third part first and confusing you L: *sheepish grin*. Anyways, Merry Christmas *random gestures toward story*

_After six years trapped alone and out of time, Clipper Becker has found her way home. Reunited with her brother, she now has to relearn 21__st__ century survival. It won't be easy, but she has found something she never expected; a Kindred Spirit._

Kindred

_Tap_

Clipper's eyes flew open for the sixth time in three hours. She froze; every sense straining for the source of the sound.

_Tap, tap_

Her gaze flickered to the window and...

The window?

Finally, her surroundings came back to her and she forced herself to relax.

Of course, in relaxing, other issues came to the front of her sleep-addled mind. Namely; the bed.

It was comfortable. This was a concept Clipper had trouble wrapping her mind around; she hadn't been comfortable for six years.

Where was the root digging into her back?

Where was the cold water dripping from the roof of the cave?

Where was the bone-numbing ache from sleeping on damp rocks?

Quite simply, they weren't there.

And Clipper couldn't stand it.

Her eyes flew around her new bedroom. Four walls. One ceiling. A smooth wood floor. One window.

One window, twelve floors up.

Once again, her back stiffened.

Twelve floors was too high if something happened. There was only one way out of this place. Only one exit. Not enough exits.

Courage now threatening to break, Clipper felt the familiar feeling of panic begin to crawl up her throat, choking her. Her skin prickled and her stomach was tying itself in knots. Clipper screwed her eyes shut and tried to picture herself somewhere else; somewhere safe.

Back in her cold, lonely, raptor-ridden forest.

Back where she knew what to do.

It was no good.

_Tap, tap_

She broke; flying out of bed and scrambling into her borrowed clothes. Her heart was racing, eyes blind in panic. She had to get out!

The door slammed loudly in her wake.

Outside, the air stank of fumes, but it was cool and refreshing on her sweaty face. She could feel herself calming down.

All around her were buildings; great slabs of grey and black; so different from what she was used to. There was no green; the only brown was the mud in the road and trees were few and far between.

It was like an alien planet.

Finally, her eyes lit upon a large swathe of grass surrounding a small wood.

After six years of living almost exclusively in the things, anyone would think she'd be fed up of trees but the damp bark was rough beneath her calloused palms and the smell of decaying leaves rich and deep and comforting.

Reaching up, Clipper grasped the lowest branch of a familiar pine and kicked off the trunk, launching herself into the tree. Then she climbed, climbed until she was so high she couldn't see the ground.

She was alone again; safe again.

Except she wasn't.

Clipper froze as she spotted a face in the branches. White-blonde hair and bright-blue eyes. It was Hil's friend; the one he worked with. What was her name?

'You're Abby aren't you?'

Abby smiled and nodded. 'Hello again, Clipper.'

Clipper sat down, leaning her back against the trunk as she resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be alone tonight. Then something occurred to her.

'What're you doing here anyway? I mean...up a tree? In the middle of the night?'

Abby laughed. 'I suppose I could ask you the same question.'

'I've spent the last six years up trees in the middle of the night.' Clipper retorted. 'The bed was too comfortable. What's your excuse?'

Abby's gaze met hers. 'It's the same as yours, just shorter. And I didn't sleep in them every night.'

Clipper's eyes widened. 'Oh.'

'Yeah, I can't always stand being inside; it's too...close. So I come out here instead. Closer to what I got used to. So I don't blame you for escaping because I'm the same. I just want to help.'

'I don't-'

'-need help? Your brother never needs help either. Just bear in mind that I know you do. I know the only reason you haven't run for the hills already is because you trust Becker to keep you safe. It was the same for Connor and I; he was the first one we saw when we got back and he wouldn't let us out of his sight. Mostly; we didn't keep ourselves entirely out of trouble but he had our backs when we needed him, same as ever.'

Clipper was still staring at her, unable to believe this calm, confident woman had been through the same sort of hell she had. She seemed so...comfortable.

Abby seemed to know what she was thinking. 'It gets easier, eventually. Connor and I weren't gone as long as you, or as young, and we knew what we were getting ourselves into, plus we were together; so our circumstances weren't quite the same as yours. It took us months to stop keeping watch at night, we would jump at small noises and our first instincts would still be to jump up the nearest tree or whatever was within a few metres, so we _do_ know how you feel.'

Clipper was quiet for a moment; Abby recognised that look; the same one Becker got when he was about to say something personal. Not that it happened much. When the girl spoke, her voice was heavy and she refused to meet Abby's eye.

'I used to be a really heavy sleeper. I had to be; Mum wasn't exactly quiet when she was drunk. Sometimes I wouldn't wake up unless Hil was actually jumping on my bed. But on one of my first nights in the forest, I woke up and there was a Raptor just a few feet away. I kept really still and quiet so it didn't notice me but I knew I was lucky. One day I might wake up with something chewing on my leg. I got paranoid, and it made me a light sleeper. I'd wake up if a twig cracked, if there was a breeze, if there was nothing at all, and it saved my life more times than I can remember.'

Abby knew what she was talking about. Even with one keeping guard, both she and Connor would wake at the slightest disturbance. Not so good if you didn't know your flatmate was a sleepwalker; only the night before had the two of them flown out of bed, armed with pillows only to realise that no, it wasn't a dinosaur out for an easy meal, just Jess, fast asleep and making a cup of tea.

'I think I just learned more about Becker's personal life in ten seconds talking to you than three years knowing him. He never says anything; just clams up and stares at you until you feel awkward enough to change the subject. The biggest hint we've ever had to his first name is you calling him "Hil".'

Clipper laughed. 'I won't tell you either; he's kept that secret since he started secondary school. I don't blame him; I have no idea what was going through our parents' heads when they saddled him with the worst family name ever thought of. I mean, in Tudor England maybe, but nowadays? Poor sod never stood a chance. He's been Becker ever since he was eleven. Mind you, I've been Clipper since I was a few months old so I can't talk.'

'What - Clipper's not your real name?' Abby seemed genuinely surprised.

'Nah, its Bryn. Means "Hill" believe it or not.' Abby snickered. 'Seriously though, no-one knows his name?'

'Jess probably does but she'll never tell. I think Connor might but he's most likely going to use it as blackmail the next time he can't be bothered to do his own paperwork.'

'I think I might like Connor.' Clipper grinned. 'I once blackmailed Hil into taking me and my friends to the fair. Six five-year-olds jacked up on candyfloss...he couldn't sit straight for a week. How does Connor know his name anyway?'

Abby shrugged, surprised by the banter she managed to fall into with this socially-repressed girl.

'Same as Jess; he read his file when he first started. Becker was hired to ensure what happened to one of our best friends would never happen to anyone else. Connor wanted to make sure he was up to the job.'

Just like that, the joking atmosphere was gone. The smile slid off Clipper's face and Abby felt old memories welling up again.

'Did it happen?' Clipper's voice was soft and careful.

Abby sniffed. 'Yes, but it wasn't Becker's fault. He beats himself up about it but not even he can save everyone. It's just - no-one seems to have told him that.'

Clipper's nimble fingers were at work. They snapped of a dry branch, about an inch in diameter and a foot long, and set about stripping the bark off it. She didn't seem to be concentrating.

'I used to think he was invincible. When I was four, there were a bunch of boys from the secondary school who used to push me around and steal my lunch money and stuff. One day Hil found out. He came home late and he had a black eye but those boys never came near me again. He was my...my knight in shining armour I suppose. Whenever I had trouble, there he was, fixing it. The only time he wasn't there was when I went through that gateway and trust me, that was through no lack of effort on his part.' Clipper sighed, slipping a flint knife from her belt. Calmly, she began shaving long curls off the stick in her hand.

Abby watched in amazed silence as a wooden knife began to take shape. The blade, then the hilt; both were meticulously honed with care and precision.

'Is this what you do to relax?'

Clipper, now sharpening the blade, didn't look up. 'I prefer flint really but wood's more hands on; distracts the mind. With flint, fire does all the work but wood, you can see whatever it is forming right under your fingers. Thing is, it rots. It rots, goes blunt too quickly, gets stained and swelled by blood, chips when you really don't want it to. Flint is beautiful. It's sharp straight away, wipes easily, kills quickly and if you treat it right, it'll treat you right.' Clipper held up the flint knife she was using. In the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, Abby could see the dark red stains marring the blue stone.

'Is that...?'

'Blood. Burnt on. Like I said, it never let me down. It probably saved my life but I never managed to get the blood off.'

'Your blood?'

'Yes.'

'...Burnt on?'

Clipper hesitated slightly before pulling up the hem of her trouser leg, exposing a long, white scar. It had healed well, but certainly not completely naturally; there were ridges where the skin had been pulled together, but no sign of stitches. The edges looked like...

'Burnt on. You cauterized it?'

The girl nodded, covering the scar back up. 'I couldn't stitch it, I had nothing clean enough to bandage it, and if I'd left it open I'd've been dead within the week, either from infection or whatever was attracted by the smell.'

Abby nodded, feeling slightly nauseous. 'How old were you?'

'It was my sixteenth birthday.'

'Ouch.'

'Yeah.' She smirked. 'Happy Birthday.' Pulling a scrap of hide from the belt, she tested the wooden knife by slicing it straight down the middle. It cut through easily. Smiling in satisfaction, she flipped it, caught it carefully by the blade, and offered it to Abby hilt first.

'Not particularly practical, but good for decoration.'

It was six inches, honey coloured with black streaks. There were no lavish carvings or extravagant decorations to distract from its simplicity. It was just a slightly curved hilt and basic blade. Decorations, Abby supposed, were all well and good, but they wouldn't help keep you alive if the knife were to come in handy.

'Thank you.'

'No problem.'

The two sat in silence for a few more minutes, Clipper running a rough pumice file over the edges of her blade, Abby mulling over everything the girl had told her. She frowned, getting stuck on one thing.

'Can I ask you a personal question? Feel free not to answer.'

Clipper glanced at her then gave a small nod of consent.

'You talk about Becker as if he's your personal superman, but what about your parents? He never says anything, and you've barely mentioned them either. I suppose we just always assumed he was from a military, stiff-upper-lip family and left it alone.'

There was a long pause.

'You can trace our family's military history back to the English Civil War; there was an Edward Becker, a general in the New Model Army. I'm not sure how far back we go from then but there has been at least one soldier per generation since. Dad was a soldier, so are my Uncles; Sam, Chris and Jason. My granddad, great-granddad, great-uncles. I've got eight cousins on my Dad's side and I know at least five of them are planning on joining up; maybe they already have. So yes; a very military family. Thing is, that's only Dad's side. Mums line...she didn't know what she was getting herself into. Maybe she thought she could cope with him being away all the time. And she could, while Hil was growing up, and then when I was born, she was great. But she loved our Dad, she really loved him. And then...'

Her voice choked off slightly. 'Don't tell Hil I told you this. Don't let him know you know and don't tell anyone else...promise me, Abby. He's happier keeping it hidden but I...' She huffed in frustration. Abby promised.

'Dad was killed in action and she never recovered. Me and Hil took a back seat and she drank herself into oblivion every night. That's why we're so close, even now. I don't really remember her before; I was only two when he died. Hil was twelve; he pretty much raised me until he went to Sandhurst seven years later.'

Abby opened her mouth, then closed it, realising she didn't know what to say. Clipper hadn't finished anyway; her voice became slightly desperate, like Becker's did whenever he spoke about Sarah's death, or Abby, Connor and Danny's disappearance.

'I went feral after he left. There were no boundaries, none at all. I never skipped school but I'd be out until midnight; nine, ten years old. I learned to feed myself at home, learned to find food outside if there was none in the house. When I went through that gateway...the only differences were the dinosaurs, no other people and that I never knew when or if I'd ever see Hil again. That's why I went through; he was being deployed to Iraq and I knew there was a chance he'd never come back so I freaked out and took off. That was the last time I saw him until today.' Clipper gave a dry smile. 'He hasn't changed. Not much anyway; that scar through his eyebrow is new.'

'He's had it as long as I've known him so...three years. At least. I always assumed he got it on deployment.'

'Maybe he did.'

There was a pause as Clipper frowned, clearly unsure whether or not to say something. Then it all came out in a rush.

'Why were you all there? I mean, of all the places in the world I could have ended up, why was my brother right there when I came out?'

'Well the vast majority of the anomalies we detect are in Britain, so it was a pretty safe bet you'd show up here.'

'Abby.' Clearly, after six years, Clipper was taking no prisoners. Abby turned the knife in her fingers; playing for time and, although she would never admit it, unable to look the girl in the eye.

'It's his job. Dinosaurs can cross through just as easily as you did and someone has to keep them under control. That someone happens to be your brother, along with the rest of us.' Abby chanced a glance up. Clipper's face was expressionless, eyes devoid of any emotion. She was staring at her in a way that suggested she was struggling to keep herself under control. When she finally spoke, her voice was flat and worryingly calm.

'His job.' It sounded like the lull before the storm. 'His...his job. What I've been living through since I was ten, he does for a job. Is he _bloody insane?_'

'Probably; we all are. I mean we fight _dinosaurs _for a living. My pet lizard is about two hundred _million_ years old. You don't get more insane than that.'

'I suppose not.' Clipper pulled her legs up and buried her face in her knees, so her next words came out muffled. 'I just don't want him to get hurt. Or lost. Because it's hell through there, you know that better than almost anyone.'

'Becker is one of the most experienced members of the team but he's only been through a couple of anomalies. The same one actually. A few times.'

Clipper lifted her head, giving Abby a suspicious look.

'Experienced?'

'Well, yeah; he's worked for the ARC for three years, that's longer than everyone except me, Connor and Lester. He knows what he's doing, and he's got the luck of the devil on his side; the scrapes he's got himself out of...I don't know how he does it.'

The girl smirked. 'Family trait. Works with just about anything from getting away with late homework to getting away from dinosaurs with a taste for your blood. There was one time when my uncle Jason was at Sandhurst; he got drunk with a couple of other guys, nicked the Captain's car and went joyriding. His mates kicked him out at the next village and he had to walk back. Just as well because the Captain caught the others when they got back and they got it in the neck. Jason got off Scot free because they were so drunk that they'd completely forgotten that he was the ringleader!'

Abby laughed, hoping they were past the topic of her friend's mortality.

Clipper leaned back against the trunk again, and raised her eyes to the heavens. Abby followed her gaze, focusing on the stars.

'They're like old friends aren't they?' The girl mused. 'Look, there's the plough.' The crooked frying pan shape stood out clearly against the black back-drop. Abby smiled; the familiar stars were rarely seen in London.

'Hil taught me how to spot them. They weren't much help back in the forest but they were a comfort; a bit of home I suppose. Helped keep me sane.'

Abby stretched her arm out and pointed at a W on its side. 'There's Casseopeia.'

'And Sirius.'

'And Sagittarius.'

'That's my star-sign.'

Abby frowned. 'I thought November was Scorpio.'

'Late November is Sagittarius.'

'Ah.'

From then on the conversation was light-hearted; mindless, friendly even, until Abby happened to glance at her watch and almost fell out of the tree. 'Clipper, you've got to get home; it's almost six.'

The girl frowned in confusion.

'Becker will be up soon to get ready for work; he won't be happy if he goes to check on you and you're not there.'

'Wouldn't want to make him go grey early.' Agreed Clipper, already sliding out of the tree. She scrambled down, hitting the ground only seconds before Abby. 'See you later?'

Her new friend smiled. 'See you later.'

Clipper opened the door slowly, carefully. It didn't squeak. Outside, the sky was turning from black to blue to red to pink; signalling the arrival of her first day home. She smiled.

Flopping into an armchair, Clipper curled up to watch the sun creep over the horizon, all the while keeping an eye on Hil's bedroom door. He emerged before long, looking exhausted; with dark rings round his eyes and his hair tousled and in need of a brush. He looked younger than she knew him to be.

Her brother wandered over, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and sat on the arm next to her. Clipper leant against his hip and closed her eyes.

It wouldn't be easy, she knew, returning to modern life, but she had something that she had never imagined she would; Abby and Connor; who had seen it, done it, and knew how to help, and _that_ would be just what she needed. That, and Hil.

Her brother, and her Kindred Spirit.

**Tadaaa. I honestly never thought I'd get this one done; I've been plagued with Writers Block so I'm not really sure how it's turned out. Comments will be very welcome *wink, wink, nudge, nudge***

**TTFN, When the Wind Stands Fair**


	3. And so it begins

_Finally back in 21__st__ century London, Clipper's modern education is just beginning. Step one – new clothes._

And so it begins...

'This one! No, no, no, _this one!'_ Jess' voice had risen to the point when even the deaf man at the very tip of Scotland could hear her. People were turning to stare and Clipper, unused to and frankly terrified of the attention was shrinking further and further into Abby's side. Quite a feat considering the younger girl was several inches taller.

Clipper was dressed in one of Becker's old T-shirts and some of Abby's jeans. The jeans were too small and the shirt too large but they were the only clothes she had since Jess had burned her Raptor-skins the day before.

Hence the shopping trip.

Clipper hadn't understood Abby's warning glance when Becker asked Jess to replenish his sisters' wardrobe. She did now; Jess was a _machine._

Just _looking_ at her shoes made Clipper's feet ache. She kept tripping over her toes having not worn shoes at all for over four years. She wanted nothing more than to kick these blasted boots off entirely but remembered (with some prompting from Abby) that going barefoot in public was generally frowned upon.

She huffed and returned her gaze to the clothes Jess was now trying to force into her arms. One eyebrow went up.

They were dresses. Really short ones. Or maybe they were long t-shirts; Clipper wasn't sure which. Abby shot her a glance and shrugged, indicating that she didn't either.

'Er, Jess? Are there any normal clothes here? I mean like, um, jeans or something?'

Jess' raised eyebrows had Clipper back-tracking faster than she would have believed possible. She looked desperately to Abby for back-up.

Thankfully, the blonde seemed to take pity on her; managing to bring Jess' attention to the fact that Clipper was fast approaching breaking point.

The girl was carefully balanced on the balls of her feet. Her knees were slightly bent and she looked ready to bolt at the smallest provocation. Why Jess had decided to bring them on a Saturday, the busiest shopping day of the week, completely escaped Abby.

'Ready to go?' Abby asked, indicating the piles of clothes already bought, and Clipper nodded, already turning towards the door.

Abby smiled sadly, remembering her and Connor's return from the past. She hadn't been able to sleep for a week, unused to more than two hours at a time and the comfort of a bed. Becker had told her that Clipper had forsaken the bed in favour of the wooden floor, where he'd found her curled up beneath her quilt that morning. Abby was already aware, having spent half the night sharing a tree with the girl, but they'd both agreed to keep the impromptu meeting a secret. It would take her much longer to readjust to 21st century life than Abby and Connor had.

And now she was struggling with crowds. To be honest, Abby was kicking herself for not seeing it coming; Clipper had been completely devoid of human contact for over _six years; _some of the most impressionable years of her life, where she starts to learn about herself. In those years, anything behind her was most likely trying to _kill her. _She hadn't survived them by kicking back and relaxing. It was a miracle she had survived at all.

And Abby was glad she had; despite having never heard of the youngest Becker before, she could see the effect her return was having on the stoic soldier. Becker was already smiling more; he was more relaxed and had even been cracking jokes with Connor that morning.

Yes, life at the ARC was certainly improving.

The only problem was Clipper herself. It had taken weeks for Abby and Connor to stop keeping guard at night and jumping at small noises, and they had only been in the Cretaceous for a year, they had had each other, knew what had happened and were old enough that small things like growing didn't affect them.

Clipper had been alone, ten years old with dinosaurs trying to kill her wherever she went. To make it worse, she grew out of her clothes after a couple of years and had to make more out of a dead Raptor.

It wasn't a great situation at the best of times and Abby wondered if Clipper would ever recover.

Maybe she would; she'd only been back two days. Abby smiled as she remembered.

_Two days previously_

_Becker tore across the square as Abby looked on in disbelief. He had dropped his gun, which had never happened before, and taken off at a dead sprint towards the rag-tag girl who had just stepped through the anomaly. What was he doing?_

_Abby's eyebrows rose as the girl hurled herself into his arms. She heard Jess' loud whoop and Matt, Connor's and her own questions, all mixing into an incomprehensible blur._

'_Jess, who is she? Do you know her?'_

'_Never met her, but I do know who she is. I'll let Becker explain later.' Jess sounded so excited she was about to burst._

_By now Becker had put the girl back on her feet, allowing the others a slightly better look. Tall and lean, scruffy and apparently wearing a Raptor, it didn't take Abby long to recognise the signs._

'_Jess, how long has she been...wherever she's been?'_

'_Um, it was June 2005 so...six years, three months-ish.'_

_Abby didn't bother to ask any more as Becker was now leading the apprehensive teen back towards the group. She stayed close to him, half hidden behind his heavy black jacket. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side._

_He looked different. All traces of fatigue were now gone, his eyes were twinkling and the deep frown that usually marred his forehead had smoothed; he looked younger without it._

_Matt raised his eyebrows, waiting silently for an explanation. It didn't arrive; Becker didn't seem to know what to say other than '...Jess?'_

_Jess' voice came through the car's comm. system, causing the girl to flinch violently and try to peer through the car's dark glass windows._

'_Um, sorry. Right, I'll start with introductions. Guys, this is Becker's younger sister: Clipper. She went through an anomaly when she was ten, just over six years ago, and now she's back – obviously. Okay Clipper, the blonde woman is Abby, dark-haired is Emily, the guy with the longish hair is Connor, the other one with the Irish accent is Matt. I'm Jess and I'm not...actually...in the car.'_

_At this last statement Clipper's confused look intensified and she glanced up at Becker, utterly lost. He shrugged._

'_You'll meet her soon enough; we'll head back as soon as the anomaly closes.'_

_Right on cue it disappeared. The security team quickly picked up the equipment and left, leaving a slightly awkward silence among the core team._

_Until Connor broke it._

'_Okay, so does anyone else have any missing relatives we should know about? Just so we know what to look out for.'_

_Matt grinned, Becker looked sheepish and even Clipper managed a small smile._

_Abby laughed and turned to climb into the car. 'Just Jack and he isn't missing. Besides, he knows that if he ever goes through another anomaly then Becker will cheerfully rip him apart.'_

_Joking over, Matt regained control of the situation, telling Becker to take his sister back to the ARC in his car, then he could take her home if Lester agreed._

_Abby kept a close eye on the two of them as they walked away. Clipper looked wary, approaching the car slowly, the way you would a nervous horse. Becker reached out and took her hand; said something quiet to her. She nodded, smiled, and got in the car._

_Becker and Clipper had been called straight to Lester's office after narrowly avoiding Jess' badly-thought-through-flying-tackle-hug that made Clipper leap behind Becker in shock._

_Lester had that look on his face; the I'm-waiting-for-a-very-good-explanation-but-am-pretending-to-be-calm-as-I-realise-this-is-a-delicate-situation face that had been known to make some of the more nervous employees break out in hives, or so Connor claimed._

_Abby, on the other hand, had a different kind of respect for the boss, considering him more of a father-figure since he had been put in charge of the organisation. She was one of the few people who could see how much he cared for his team, and it was for this very reason she knew he would do everything he could for the newly reunited siblings._

_It wouldn't be easy; Clipper had a long, hard slog ahead of her. She was now a creature of instinct and only her unflinching trust in her brother, so deeply ingrained it hadn't even seemed to waver during their long separation, kept her in one place._

_That wasn't all. Clipper had been presumed dead a year after her disappearance, much like both Helen Cutter and Patrick Quinn. Not only was there now the small task of explaining to the authorities where she had been for last six years and how she came to be in the middle of London without giving away any clue to the actual events, they also had to make sure she didn't turn out like either of the psychopaths before her._

_It was giving Abby a headache just thinking about it._

_An hour later, the two left Lester's office. Becker looked solemn but slightly relieved, whereas Clipper had relaxed somewhat._

_Lester - not so much. Abby could see him banging his forehead against the desk; she was glad it wasn't her filling out the paperwork._

_Becker had been given the day off to settle Clipper in at home, then she would be accompanying him to work each day until she was ready to go back to school._

_But in the meantime..._

_Abby caught Jess eyeing Clipper's clothes and lack of footwear as she approached._

It had been five years since Clipper had worn shoes; she had forgotten how very _heavy _they were. Especially these.

Coming from a family as heavily militarised as hers, she had grown up in combat boots. She had loved the support around the ankles, the steel-capped toes and the air of – something – they gave you.

She had also loved the weight.

Now it felt like she was wading through a bog; she felt noisy and heavy and obvious; a terrifying prospect when you live a lifestyle where drawing attention to yourself is one way of saying _I'm over here – please hunt me down and eat me_. She longed to merge back into the safety of the silent shadows, but Jess was being...well apparently Jess was being Jess. Bright clothes, short skirt; this was Jess.

Clipper suddenly smirked.

Jess had an admirer.

Admittedly, a very secret one. Clipper only knew because she knew him so _well._

The glances that were only fractionally longer than those he gave the rest of the team, the way he angled his body very slightly towards her, the light in his eye whenever her name was mentioned; oh yes, Hil had it bad. Clipper had never seen him like this before.

Leaving the safety of the wall, she fell into step beside Abby, several feet behind Jess.

Speaking of whom, Clipper hadn't missed the considerably more obvious glances and soft smiles heading her brother's way. Hence why she had to speak to Abby.

'Abby? How long has Jess – liked – Hil?'

The sideways glance was amused and verging on devious.

'That didn't take long.' Came the whispered reply. 'We first noticed as soon as we got back from the Cretaceous. I mean...the day after. So that was just over a year and a half ago, and they'd been working together eight months before _that_ so...about two years. Roughly.'

Clipper gave a low whistle. 'And...how long has _he _liked _her?'_

Abby stopped dead, looking impressed. 'You don't miss a trick do you? He's _liked_ her for a year and a half at least, not sure how long he's known he liked her; that could be as recent as about a month, maybe two. That was when we realised he was in much deeper that we first thought.'

At the sight of Clipper's raised eyebrows, Abby shrugged. 'I'd say one of them would explain but neither of them like talking about it so I'll give you the short version: there was an incident in the ARC and Jess got hurt. There was nothing we could use to save her in here but she had something in her car. Unfortunately, we were locked in and the only one who could let us out had this thing about valuing his own projects above human life. I've never seen your brother so frantic; she was dying in his arms and we were at the mercy of a man who would rather incinerate us than risk the creatures getting out. Becker hated it, swore he'd never be in that situation again.' She looked at Clipper. 'I didn't realise he'd been in it before.'

Clipper smiled humourlessly.

'Yeah, I was stupid and it cost me six and half years of my life, caused us both pain. Hil had just got back from Sandhurst and dropped the bombshell that he was being deployed to Iraq. I was scared and ran off. He chased me but I went through the gateway. By the time I realised – sort of – what had happened it was too late; it had already closed.'

Her eyes were shadowed and her face shut down into the familiar mask often adopted by her older brother; the one that meant he was locking his emotions away in the back of his mind to avoid thinking about the subject. Abby backed off and waited for Clipper to come back.

Eventually the girl's face cleared. 'So are the chances of one of them making a move good or will we have to intervene?'

Abby laughed and shared a conspirational grin with her new Partner-in-Crime.

'Oh intervention. Definitely intervention.'

...

_Okay, the next one will be a while as I have no idea what to do with it, to be honest, so sorry about that. I have tried, just ask my friends, but each attempt was more ridiculous than the last. Meanwhile, I'm trying to write a companion story to 'Prison Break', which will probably be the next up._


End file.
